


Unfamiliar Development

by hufflepuffhermione



Category: Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 16:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17625629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflepuffhermione/pseuds/hufflepuffhermione
Summary: Dwight and Caroline's interrupted wedding night has greater consequence than originally imagined.





	Unfamiliar Development

**Author's Note:**

> You can thank the polar vortex for this fic; it's been bugging me to write for months, but over the past three days when I was stuck inside because of the ridiculous cold, I wrote 10,000 words of this. It also ended up being far longer than I anticipated, and also entirely from Caroline's perspective, which I wasn't necessarily intending to do (funnily enough, I feel like I have a far better grasp on Dwight's character, but I digress) but it all ended up working out. So enjoy this overly long oneshot borne out of my cabin fever. If you feel so inclined, please drop a comment to make my day!

The wind was harsh and unrelenting, casting its cold strains towards the land, causing the waves to crash against the cliffs, blowing away tendrils of Caroline’s once perfectly arranged hair.

She could not bring herself to care. 

She glanced out over the sea that was more gray than blue now, and would remain so as long as the clouds hung over them like a cold, unfeeling blanket. It was morning and the sun had already risen, although considering the weather one could hardly tell the time.

Caroline knew she awoke prior to the rising of the sun, but despite her long, early ride, could not say when the sun had fully risen. The day in its infancy seemed dull, uninspiring, sad. She had seen no one outside that morning; soon enough, the miners would make their ways to work, and the small group of nearby cottages would begin to bustle. This morning, however, she was alone.

Not entirely alone, of course.

No, she would not be alone for several months.

She placed a hand to her abdomen, blinking back tears. Sea spray lashed in her face, and her salty tears could mingle with the water, becoming one and the same. No one would ever know by simple observation; her veneer of stoicism remained intact despite the enormous weight she carried.

Caroline was with child.

She knew exactly when it had occurred; she and Dwight had less than a night together to consummate their marriage, but the little time they had, apparently, was enough.

It was all wrong. Their marriage had not even been announced due to Uncle Ray’s death, and now Dwight was missing, quite possibly dead, and she was with child and would be presumed to be unmarried in spite of the reality. Fear consumed her, chilled her far more than the cold sea breeze ever could. She was not at all cut out to be a mother, especially not alone.

She wondered, briefly, if there might be a way to rid herself of it (for while she pondered this, she could not bear to think of it as a child). If there was such a way, Dwight would know, but he was not there to ask, and if he were there, she would not need to ask.

He had been so gentle and concerned on their wedding night, even asking her several times if she wouldn’t rather wait, for this very reason, despite his obvious, all-consuming desire for her.

She had refused. With eagerness she smothered him in kisses and fell on top of the bed with him, laughing all the way.

They had been interrupted hardly more than an hour later by Ross’ urgent knocking. Dwight had dressed like like lightning, while Caroline pulls herself under the covers and implored Dwight to only open the door a crack.

A few hushed words were exchanged, and Dwight turned back to Caroline, who extricated herself from the covers.

“Elizabeth Warleggan is in labor, and I must attend to her,” Dwight said, as if there was no more onerous task in the world. 

“You are not even here for twenty-four hours, how can they know to call on you?” Caroline replied, incredulity dripping from her voice.

He had shrugged and pulled his vest over his shoulders. “I so regret how little time we had together,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her.

“It was enough,” she had replied, although both of them desperately wished for more.

And clearly it had been enough time for Caroline to be left with the consequences.

She had not yet asked a doctor to confirm the pregnancy, but her three months of missing courses, her sore breasts, her frequent nausea, and the ever so slight rounding of her once flat abdomen told her everything she needed to know. She did not wish to ask Dr. Choake or Dr. Behenna, as they still thought her to be unmarried and no doubt would be judgmental. In truth, she did not want anyone but Dwight to tell her for certain. If she couldn’t hear the words from his lips, she didn’t want to hear them from anyone.

But Dwight somewhere far away, his ship wrecked and his fate unknown. Perhaps he died drowning in the icy waters, perhaps he died because he was helping others and gave little thought to his own welfare, perhaps he was shot by the French, perhaps he was taken prisoner as Ross suspected, perhaps he was simply in hiding, perhaps he was on his way back to Cornwall at that very moment. Caroline knew nothing of his whereabouts and it killed her.

If he returned soon she could make it through the pregnancy without too much of a scandal, but every day made that look less likely. She needed a plan to diffuse the situation, but she could not do it alone.

It was time for her to share her burden.

She looked out over the stormy sea once more and held her hands over her abdomen, closing her eyes against the cold spray.

* * *

Nampara always felt cramped, but there was a warmth to it that the stone walls of Killewarren could not provide. Caroline had been avoiding the place the last few weeks, ever since the realization that he life could change quite dramatically occurred to her. She was grateful to Ross and Demelza for everything, but in some ways, they were still much more Dwight’s friends than hers. And some days, she could not bear the reminders of her husband that the sight of Ross and Demelza seemed to conjure.

She had few true friends in Cornwall; in fact, she had few true friends in any of her circles. Certainly none of her society acquaintances would stand by her if they knew of her secret. But Ross and Demelza would, and she would have to depend on them, or she would have no one else.

So to Nampara she went. Demelza greeted her genially, although she appeared slightly surprised to see Caroline, especially in such a state, her hair windblown, her cheeks ruddy, her eyes rimmed with red. “What brings you here today?”

“We may want to sit down before we discuss that,” Caroline responded, removing her cloak. “Where might Ross be?”

Demelza stopped short as she reached for the kettle on the fire. “Did he not…” she began, glancing back at Caroline.

“What, what is it? What did Ross not tell me?” Panic suddenly struck in her heart as she wondered at all the things that could go wrong.

“I wonder if…” Demelza began, but she shook her head. “Ross… is in France.”

Caroline’s eyes widened and her hand reached out for the nearest chair. “For Dwight’s sake?”

Demelza nodded mutely. “He believes that Dwight may have been taken prisoner. He’s… his father had contact who has gone with him and will be useful in obtaining information. He may be able to discover if Dwight is on any lists of prisoners.”

“And that would mean…” Caroline wondered, sitting down in the chair.

Demelza carried the tea tray to the table. “I don’t know what it would mean. I’ve no knowledge of these kind of things.”

“Nor I,” Caroline whispered.

“He’ll be home in a few days,” Demelza said, trying to sound flippant, although her worry was evident.

“I pray for his return,” Caroline replied, reaching for her friend’s hand. She sighed heavily, before continuing, “and dread it. While there’s no news of Dwight…”

“There’s still hope,” Demelza finished, squeezing Caroline’s hand in return. 

“Yes. That he is still alive, somewhere in France…” Her voice trailed off, the fear of being left alone consuming her again. She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to stem an uncharacteristic flow of tears, but Demelza was not fooled.

“Oh Caroline, I’m that…” she began, standing up to reach for Caroline, but Caroline held up a hand and shook her head.

“It’s not just that. I’ve cried enough over that and…” she swallowed and squeezed Demelza’s hand again. “I’m with child.”

Demelza sat down again and put a hand to her mouth. “How far gone?”

“Three months.” Her eyes were downcast and the tears still wanted to spill. “It appears… our wedding night, while abbreviated, had consequences.”

“Oh Caroline, that’s…”

Caroline poured a cup of tea for herself and gulped it down. “I see you also do not quite know how to feel about this. I’m quite conflicted, for on one hand, if Dwight were here, I’d be delighted to have his child, and even if he never…” she took a large breath, trying to blink back the recurring tears. “I’ll always have something to remember him by, anyway…”

Demelza nodded, knowing Caroline’s caveat. “But your marriage.”

“I am not yet married in the eyes of society, no,” Caroline replied, her eyes focused on the ring of her finger. “And if I announce my marriage now, it will seem to be a coverup of my morality, even though I am genuinely married.”

“So what will you do?”

“What is there to be done?” Her outburst was exasperated, but her face soon sank into despair. “I came to ask for your help, and Ross’s. If there’s nothing to be done to save face, at least I will have a friend in the world.”

Demelza placed a hand on Caroline’s shoulder and smiled. “And you will have our support in every possible way.”

“I certainly don’t deserve your kind consideration,” Caroline said, a little color rising in her cheeks.

“Of course you do. ’Tis what Dwight would have wanted also.”

Caroline lowered her eyes toward the table, but managed to force a smile. She had already thought far too much about Dwight, and to speak about him more would heighten her anxieties. “I’ve felt so horribly nauseated this past month. Have you experienced that with your pregnancies?”

“Yes, unfortunately,” Demelza replied, noticing the change of subject but going along with it. It was easier on all of them to ignore what could not be changed for the moment. “I’ve found though that a little bit of ginger in the morning does miraculous things.”

* * *

The book sat in her lap but she certainly had not read a word of it. If she had been asked the topic, she could not have said.

It was the day Ross was due back, after his first delay in France which had angered Demelza to no end. While in the past Caroline might have been annoyed by Demelza’s angry venting, she had found, as she sat in the kitchen of Nampara yet again, that anything was a helpful distraction.

Sitting in front of the fire at Killewarren with an unread book was not particularly helpful for distraction.

There was nothing for her to do but ruminate, nothing left but to worry.

How had she filled her days before she met Dwight? How had she borne the interminable dullness of a privileged life in Cornwall before she had the man who set her heart racing? There were few members of society nearby, even fewer that she liked, and so she could not easily turn to society for distraction as she had in the past. Perhaps, she could have gone to London and sought shallow solace in the bustle of the city and the conversations about drawing room curtains; meaningless and trite anymore, but something to do. But she could not, for her predicament precluded interaction with society. Were anyone to know, she would be immediately an outcast.

Somehow, she had to make her marriage to Dwight known. Somehow, she had to make an acceptable excuse for why it was never announced. Somehow, she had to save herself and her husband from notoriety. 

It was all that had consumed her thoughts for the past week, and it would still be all that consumed her until she found a solution.

But several of them depended on whether Dwight was alive or not. 

She was terrified to learn the answer, but she was paralyzed from action until she knew something more.

So she could do nothing more but sit in front of the fire, stroke Horace occasionally, and read a few words before her mind drifted off again.

Though logically she knew that Ross was coming back today, she managed to put it out of her mind enough that she was jolted by the footman saying, “Captain Poldark to see you.”

Ross entered after him, and it took Caroline a moment to absorb the situation before she stood up and rushed to him, clasping his hands. “Did you…” she began but she could not finish. Icy tendrils of fear gripped her heart, and she looked just past his eyes, afraid to see pity and grief and pain.

Ross squeezed her hands, and she braced herself to hear the words that she dreaded so. He was dead, of course he was dead. His ship had been wrecked on enemy territory after an intense battle; he had little opportunity to survive all of that. Her child would be the only thing that remained of him. She would have to forge her way as a widow who was barely even married. These thoughts flew through her head at the speed of light, and she tried to rearrange her face into a stoic mask, hardly listening to Ross. He said something, but Caroline was too afraid to make any sense of it. “What?” she whispered, still not looking into his eyes.

“Dwight’s alive. A prisoner, but alive” he repeated.

Caroline took in a deep breath and moved to meet his eyes, but the air never seemed to reach for her lungs and she found herself stumbling into Ross’s arms when everything went black.

Her eyes fluttered open and she was laying on the settee, Ross hovering over her and the footman in the corner, ready to step in to do something, anything, at a moment’s notice.

“Caroline…” he began, biting his lip in concern. “Shall I send for a doctor? It seems unlike you to…”

“No, no, I’m perfectly alright,” she said trying to sit up, but stilled by his hand on her shoulder.

“Have you ever fainted like this before?” he asked.

Caroline shrugged. “I don’t believe so. But I swear to you, Ross, I’m perfectly alright. Now you must tell me everything you learned.”

“Caroline, you seem so pale. I think I must send for Dr. Choake.”

Caroline bolted upright, resisting Ross’s hold on her. “I want no doctor besides my husband, and since I cannot have my husband, I want no doctor. I no longer feel ill. It is not abnormal for a lady to faint in shock, although I agree that it is quite unusual for me. However, there is another contributing factor that Demelza may not have appraised you of.”

“And what might that be?”

“I’m with child.”

Ross stepped back, his eyes widening. “But…how?”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “The child was conceived in your house, I think you can reasonably surmise how.”

“How will you… respond?” he asked. He was trying his best, Caroline realized, but he had no idea how to talk about the subject at hand.

She shook her head. “I’m not certain at the moment. Find some way to prove my marriage without people assuming it was a last minute attempt to save my reputation. Hope that people will be forgiving. Pray for Dwight’s safe return.”

“Yes, we all much do that,” Ross said. Caroline knew how much it meant for Ross to say that. He did not ask her any more questions about the pregnancy; that, she supposed, was a mission entirely designated to Demelza.

She took a deep breath and finally looked him in the eyes, seeing pity, yes, and pain, but also hope. “You must tell me everything you know. About Dwight.” In a way she was afraid to hear, but it was not, could not be the worst news. No matter what, he was still breathing, somewhere far away.

Ross sighed. “His ship was wrecked. All survivors were taken prisoner. His name is on a list of prisoners.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and presented it to Caroline. Her eyes scanned over it quickly, almost immediately landing on the name that set her heart racing.

“So that’s proof then. That he’s alive.” Caroline pulled the paper out of his hand, clutching it to her chest. It was her only hope.

Ross did not look so convinced, but he nodded. “At the moment, yes.”

“And when can he be freed? Now that we know where he is?” She knew she was hoping against hope, but perhaps her perceptions of war prisoners were wrong. Perhaps his situation was not quite so bleak as it seemed.

Ross’s face did not offer much consolation. “Freeing prisoners of war is… a very delicate process. It would require either a diplomatic arrangement or conflict within the area of Quimper. A diplomatic arrangement at any point soon is highly unlikely; as important as Dwight is to us, he is only a minor officer and an attempt at any sort of negotiation could just as soon lead to men being killed out of spite toward the enemy. And any sort of conflict of course would pose a grave danger.” He was being honest, of course, but Caroline was not sure she needed him to be that honest, at least not at the moment.

She turned away from him, placing her hand to her stomach again. “Is there any way, then?”

“We must wait. We must hope the war will end soon, or if not, the right opportunity will come to free them.”

“And in the meantime? He’s a doctor, they must be treating him better than most.”

Ross frowned. “Caroline, I feel I must tell you… I have been a prisoner of war before. I have never been so close to hell as in that prison. He is certainly suffering at the moment. Dwight’s status as a doctor may keep him alive, but it will not improve his situation.”

Caroline’s eyes were downcast. “Thank you for telling me, Ross. Please, do not keep anything from me. I am going to keep searching for answers and solutions. I have many connections and perhaps I can even manage to speak with the admiralty or the ambassador.”

“I’m not sure that will…”

“It may not do anything, but I must do something,” she insisted, anticipating Ross’s argument. “I will not sit within Killewarren for months and wait for this war to end. I have a child to think of now, a child who needs and deserves a father.”

“Just as you need your husband,” Ross replied, his expression compassionate.

“I knew him as a husband for less than a day.” Caroline had thought about this often; even if she announced her marriage to Dwight, the brevity of their time together as a married couple almost seemed to negate their vows.

“You loved him for so much longer, and you will know him again,” Ross said.

Caroline nodded and wrapped her arms around herself. “He’s alive. That’s enough, for now.”

* * *

The carriage pulled up in front of Trenwith, the house imposing above the foggy ground. Caroline took in a sharp breath and smoothed her skirts before stepping out of the carriage. The last time she had been here had for Valentine’s christening. The day she discovered that Dwight’s ship was missing. The fear struck her all over again as she approached the door; she knew that he was alive, and yet she could not release the anxiety built up inside her. Not until he was home and safe.

Elizabeth Warleggan’s request that they meet for tea had struck her as odd but she had no reason to offer up a denial, and her desperation for distraction grew with every passing day. So to Trenwith she went, hoping that George would not make an appearance. They were in the same social circles, yes, and had no real reason to despise each other, but beyond George’s enmity with Ross, which would have been enough, his dismissal of Dwight’s situation and the unkind way he insinuated that death had come to her husband was enough to put her on edge. No, it would not do to see George. But Elizabeth, perhaps, she could handle.

A maid led her to the room where Elizabeth was seated, an elaborate tea spread laid out before her. No doubt the Warleggans felt the need to flaunt their wealth. “Good afternoon, Caroline. I do hope you’re doing well,” Elizabeth said, smiling, although it did not feel entirely genuine.

“I am, thank you,” Caroline replied, taking a seat. She could not be saying anything further from the truth; she was alone, pregnant, and presumed to be unmarried, her husband was in a French prison across the English Channel, and the little child growing inside her had a particular habit of making her nauseated in the mornings.

“I’m very glad to hear it.” Elizabeth took a sip of her tea and raised an expectant eyebrow.

“And how is young Valentine faring?” Caroline asked, unsure of what other conversation topics to begin on. She did not know Elizabeth particularly well; she was not certain if she cared to.

A grimace flashed across Elizabeth’s face, but she quickly hid it behind another smile. “He is well enough, although I’m afraid he’s been diagnosed with rickets,” she said, the words coming out quickly. “Dr. Choake has been treating him, but it’s been difficult to watch. I know George doesn’t prefer his methods, but I would ask Dr. Enys in a heartbeat if…”

Caroline was not able to school her expression into something neutral at the mention of Dwight, and her wide eyes seemed to give Elizabeth pause. “I am so sorry to hear that,” she replied.

“Yes, it is difficult, although so much less difficult that what others in our midst are suffering,” Elizabeth murmured.

Caroline nodded, not sure of which tragedies Elizabeth was referring to, but landing on the tragedy of her own. Dwight could never escape from her mind, especially not if he was brought up in the conversation.

“Now how are you holding up?” Elizabeth asked.

Caroline’s brow furrowed. Certainly she didn’t mean Dwight, or the pregnancy. “In what sense?”

“Now that Lord Coniston’s scandal is out.”

Caroline’s eyes widened and her mind raced in a desperate attempt to determine Elizabeth’s meaning. Lord Coniston’s scandal? She had not spoken or written to the man in months; in fact, the last time was likely when Uncle Ray had invited him for dinner a few weeks after her reengagement and he had attempted to propose. She put him off, subtly, but later did not return any of his letters. She had quite forgotten about him; she had been consumed with a man of her own.

“You did know, didn’t you? That he had an ongoing affair with Lord Ashburton’s wife?”

Caroline had no idea. She was immediately glad to be apart from that situation, but she supposed she must act like she knew about it. “Ah, yes. I was upset when I discovered it, but that was months ago. I broke it off with him quietly; I never told him what I knew. I myself did not want to be embroiled in scandal, so I did not make a fuss about it. We were never entirely engaged, simply on the verge of it.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I simply had no idea that the rest of the world knew about it too. It was quite disgusting of him.”

“Yes, and Lord Ashburton being such a favored MP as well. I’m so glad for you, Caroline, that you found out before you were trapped with him. What an odious man,” Elizabeth said. Apparently Caroline’s story was convincing enough.

Caroline took another sip of her tea. This could be good, she realized. Lord Coniston’s scandal could offer her an excuse to announce her marriage without it seeming like such a blatant coverup of her pregnancy. She would have to discuss the logistics with someone she trusted, but the wheels of her mind began to spin.

“Well then, since you’re well rid of him, do you have any prospects on the horizon?” Elizabeth asked.

How could she explain this? How could she hint about her plan when it was not quite formulated in her mind. “I do… it’s been rather a blur, what with my uncle’s death and all. No official announcement has been made, but you should expect one as soon as the mourning period is over.”

“And may I know, in confidence, who this is?” Elizabeth was intrigued, far more than Caroline had ever seen her.

Caroline paused for a second. No, Elizabeth could not know about Dwight, not yet. “He’s rather private; he prefers I not disclose our relationship to anybody, not until we are able to be official about it. I rather like that about him.”

“And he is a decent man?”

Caroline had to fight to hold back a smile. Was Dwight a decent man? Had such an understatement ever been made? “Yes. More than decent,” she replied. “The finest of men.”

* * *

 

“I apologize for keeping you out all day, but I must insist we go directly to Nampara,” Caroline said to the carriage driver, as soon as they pulled out of the gate of Trenwith. 

She had to discuss this new development with Demelza. Demelza did not really know how to navigate the upper social order, but she and Ross were the only two who knew of Caroline’s marriage, and since Ross was constantly railing against the upper social order, scandal be damned, Demelza was perhaps a better ear in the situation.

Demelza was outside when the carriage pulled up to Nampara; despite her pregnancy, she was working in the garden and simultaneously keeping an eye on Jeremy, who was fascinated by dirt and rocks. Caroline wondered at Demelza’s ability to be a mother; motherhood seemed so distant from herself and she had hardly even thought about how she would have to mother her own child, with or without Dwight. 

“Caroline!” Demelza shouted as she saw the carriage. She got up and ran toward her, Jeremy toddling behind.

Caroline exited the carriage again and placed a hand on her friend’s arm. “I’m so very sorry to bother you Demelza, but I’ve just had tea with Elizabeth Warleggan and there’s been a very important development. I had no one else to turn to.”

“Of course. Come on inside,” Demelza said, concern lining her features. Demelza offered Caroline a seat in front of the fire. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m afraid I’m rather stuffed from an opulent Warleggan tea,” Caroline replied, rolling her eyes. “I don’t believe George Warleggan knows of the efficacy of simplicity.”

Demelza smirked and sat beside Caroline. “I doubt he does. Now, tell me.”

“I’m not sure how familiar you are with my… past engagements, but for a while, it was widely circulated that I was to be engaged to a certain Lord Coniston. Who he is should be unimportant- frankly, he was unimportant to me. But I did not dispel the rumors of our engagement, largely to please my uncle, for he believed us to be a good match.”

“But you loved Dwight,” Demelza said.

Caroline shrugged. “Well, it was not quite that simple then; I was still rather upset with him for our failed elopement, and I believed we could never be happy. But deep down, I still was in love.”

“And so Lord Coniston made no impression on you.”

“No, he was much more a match in money and name. I hardly knew the man. But it was widely believed that we were due to be engaged,” Caroline said. “George Warleggan, in fact, congratulated me on such an engagement not all that long ago.”

Demelza nodded, and Caroline was surprised that her interest was so captivated. Demelza was rarely intrigued by societal drama.

“Anyway, although he did try to propose to me, we were never truly engaged and I simply stopped responding to his letters after I reunited with Dwight. But we never were formally broken off as we had never formally been together. And now he is embroiled in scandal. He had a long, ongoing affair with the wife of a well-respected MP.”

“Judas!” Demelza breathed.

Caroline nodded. “Most unfortunate and most stupid of him, but it is of no matter to me. I had no idea of it, but Elizabeth assumed I knew. She asked me about it at tea today; I pretended to have found out months ago and posited that as the reason for the dissolution of our informal engagement.”

“And by this you mean…?” Demelza asked, not sure where Caroline’s story was leading.

“Lord Coniston has provided me an out,” Caroline replied, trying not to let a smirk pull up the corner of her mouth. “I told Elizabeth I knew about this months ago and it was the reason for our quiet separation, although he never knew it was why I cut him off.”

“You lied?” Demelza asked.

Caroline bit her lip. “I had to. Or I instinctively did. It came so out of nowhere, and suddenly I realized that I could use this situation to justify my own.”

“Caroline, you’ve already got a justification. You’re married!”

“No. I’m not married enough. A marriage announcement now would simply be seen as a coverup for my pregnancy. But if we bring Lord Coniston into it…”

“You’d protect your reputation from him, not the pregnancy,” Demelza finished.

Caroline nodded, the slightest smile crossing her face. “Yes, I believe I might. I’m afraid I’ve also told Elizabeth that an announcement about my marital state would be forthcoming once the period of morning for my uncle is over, so I’ve rather committed myself to that. But thanks to Lord Coniston’s stupidity, I will announce my elopement. I will say that it was not previously announced in order to spare Lord Coniston the humiliation of being thrown over, but now clearly he is not worthy of that consideration. I will also mention my uncle’s death being the reason for the more delayed announcement.”

“And when they ask who you took for a husband?”

“I suppose I shall have to stand with pride and say that Dr. Dwight Enys is my husband. It will come as a shock to many, but hopefully, in all the scandal, people will hardly notice me.”

Demelza looked concerned, but did not oppose the plan. “And the little one?”

Caroline’s hand went to her abdomen again. “I will not announce it; no one needs to know unless they ask. Once my child is born, an announcement can be made.”

“This all seems so complicated,” Demelza said. “You’re really certain you can’t just go out there and tell the truth?”

“The truth is stranger than fiction, my dear,” Caroline replied, taking Demelza’s hands in hers. “The truth sounds as if it is out of a romance novel. The lie shifts all the focus to Lord Coniston and his dreadful actions. I used to crave being the center of society’s attention. I’d be happy to hide away forever from it, if I had my husband by my side.”

“We’ll find him. We’ll bring him back.” 

Caroline took a deep breath and nodded. “There’s nothing I wish for more.”

* * *

“Unwin, dear, how lovely to see you once again,” Caroline said, leading her former fiancé into the sitting room.

Ross had once again attempted to convince her that Dwight’s situation was too dangerous to interfere with and that there was nothing that she or the government could do. Ross knew war, yes, but he was too rash to be familiar with politics and diplomacy. Caroline, however, was excellent at convincing others to do her bidding; she believed that she could possible intervene on Dwight’s behalf thanks to some of her contacts in London.

Traveling to London to speak with the ambassador and the admiralty would soon be out of the question; such a long journey would be unthinkable for a pregnant woman. She first wanted to see if the journey would be worth it; Unwin seemed like the perfect place to start. He was certainly an idiot, but he had contacts in high places, and Caroline knew from experience that he was most vulnerable to her wiles.

“I must admit, Caroline, I was rather shocked when you invited me to tea,” he said, pulling out his chair. “You do know I’m due back in London in a fortnight, but I’m glad we were able to arrange this.”

Caroline smiled at him widely, fluttering her eyelashes. Unwin had always appreciated that move. “Of course, my dear. It has been such a long time, and I knew Parliament was due to begin again soon. But of course, until very recently I was in mourning for my dear uncle.”

“Yes, of course. My condolences, once again. He was a fine man.” Unwin seemed to already be very comfortable sitting across from her. “And your engagement to Lord Coniston? It seems that may have been distressing to you recently.”

Caroline was about to reel from Unwin’s comment; he was so very obvious about the purpose behind it. But she schooled her expression. She would allow him to think that she had a chance. Devious, perhaps, but anything for Dwight. “Yes, although I knew about his infidelity months ago and quietly broke it off to avoid a scandal. Unfortunately, he did not mend his ways and brought such scandal down upon himself. A shame, really, that an MP would disgrace himself in such a way.”

Unwin nodded, his eyes fixed on Caroline. “Yes, yes, very much a shame. I’m very glad you have escaped unscathed.”

“And how about you? Any prospects on the horizon?” Caroline asked, raising an eyebrow. It was shameless, obvious, but she had to get information out of Unwin and perhaps a large favor.

Unwin took a cake off of the tray between them and popped the entirety into his mouth. “No, I’m afraid the ladies in London all pale in comparison to you.”

“How unfortunate, but not particularly surprising,” Caroline responded, trying to hide her disgust behind a smirk.

“Unfortunately, as exciting as London may seem at the outset, it is nearly as dull as Cornwall, and I would posit that your absence is a contributing factor,” Unwin said. He was shamelessly flirting with her, and Caroline swallowed her discomfort.

“Perhaps it is. Well, I am afraid it is highly unlikely that I will make it to London for the season, what with the estate in my hands and all. It’s a most difficult job, especially without Uncle Ray here. But I am tempted to go for reasons more diplomatic than social,” she said. _Please take the bait._

He looked slightly shocked, as if Caroline’s political ideas were entirely out of character. “What sort of reasons?”

“Well, I’m afraid the current war with France has taken quite a toll on the community here in Cornwall. In fact, I happen to know that some men essential to the community are imprisoned in France currently. I was hoping to help negotiate their release.” Her voice was casual; Caroline’s education had been a schooling in acting as much as in manners.

Unwin’s eyes widened in shock. “My goodness, Caroline, that was not a pursuit I would have anticipated from you.”

Caroline shrugged and smiled at him. “My interests extend beyond writing and needlepoint. In any case, I’m not sure a journey to London would be worth it, but I would very much appreciate it if you, while in London, could talk to some of your connections to help me with this task. If there’s things I need to travel there for, I will gladly do it, but I don’t care to make the journey in vain.”

“You are always welcome to ride with me, stay with me, anything you need…” Unwin replied.

She almost sniggered; there was no way she could plausibly stay with him, not with arousing scandal. Poor Unwin- he was desperate for her attention, and she was using him to get her husband back. But she had few options, and she had to do something. And this was all she knew how to do.

“Thank you, my dear, I may need to take you up on that offer should I choose to journey to London myself. But in the meantime, I would like you to speak with the ambassador and the admiralty, and see what they can do about the release of prisoners from the French camp in Quimper.” Caroline said. “I have written down more detailed questions I would like you to ask; I know you know some of the men in the foreign office, but the further you can get to the top, the better.”

He was taken aback, but he replied, “Anything for you, Caroline.”

“Thank you so much. Please write to me immediately when you speak with them.”  
Unwin nodded and smiled at her. “Of course, of course. And should you need to come to London, my offer still stands.”

“I appreciate that very much,” Caroline said.

It was almost too easy to convince him; he was like a still attached puppy who would fetch anything for her. In a way, she regretted it; Unwin might have be stupid, but he didn’t deserve to be played with like that. But it was for Dwight, it was all for Dwight, and if anything came of it, she could not regret it.

* * *

Caroline woke up in a cold bed.

Horace usually slept next to her, too used to the lap of luxury to simply sleep on the floor. But he was not there this morning for whatever reason; perhaps he had been scared off by the maid stoking the fire early in the morning, or perhaps he followed her for food. In any case, he was not nearby, and since he was the hottest dog in the world it seemed, her bed felt much colder. The maid clearly had not done a good job of tending the fire; it was down to the barest embers. 

For not the first time, she desperately wished to have a certain man beside her.

She had only slept in a bed with a man once; with Dwight, the night before he was first due to leave for the army. They did not have relations that night, for Dwight was afraid of the consequences for her as an unmarried woman, which later seemed extremely ironic. But she had not protested then, and she appreciated his consideration although she had desired nothing more to be with him. But to sleep in his arms had been in enough; she had awoken warm and comforted and happy and satisfied. On their wedding night, she did not have such a pleasure.

She had never considered herself to be a sentimental person, but her thoughts lately drifted to things like this; how she wished she could share a joke with Dwight, or how she wished he could see the glorious sunset, or how she wished he could wake up beside her in a warm bed.

Yes, she was cold, but no doubt Dwight was colder.

She put her hand to her abdomen. The child had at last decided to cease causing her nausea, but now enjoyed kicking her at all hours of the morning. It was normal, the doctor had said, but she took little joy in it.

Yes, she had seen a doctor. Once her quiet announcement of her elopement and the reasons behind it had been made (a combination of truth and stretches of the truth, to Demelza’s chagrin, but Caroline did not feel protected behind the whole truth), she had finally been convinced to see Dr. Choake, just to ensure that all was progressing normally in the pregnancy. He had seemed rather judgmental of her, and Caroline had wished for Dwight more than anything at the moment of her examination, but it was comforting to know that she and the baby appeared healthy and all important milestones were being met. 

The idea of having a child was a little more terrifying every time it crossed Caroline’s mind. The idea of having a child alone was even more frightening. But she had little control and her pregnancy was beginning to show more obviously, even under carefully chosen gowns. Soon, she would have to answer questions that she did not want to answer.

Caroline hugged her arms around herself, both in an attempt to keep warm in her cold bed and in an attempt to comfort herself from her rising fears. She would be alright, she knew it, but that did not stop her mind from wondering. 

A knock on her door startled her, and she quickly got out of bed and pulled a barely fitting dressing gown over herself. She opened the door and saw one of the maids standing before her. “Yes?”

“Ma’am, I’ve a letter. From a Mr. Trevaunance, which you said you wanted urgently.”

Caroline took in a deep breath. “Yes, yes. Thank you.”

She sat down on the edge of her bed, taking a deep breath, before opening the envelope. Her eyes scanned the letter quickly, looking for anything that could indicate hope.

Nothing.

It was a very polite, but very firm letter saying that nothing could be done for a minor officer who was a prisoner of war. Unwin had promised he would let her know if there were any relevant developments, but offered little hope. He then begged her to come to London regardless and stay with him; Caroline immediately blocked such a plea from her mind.

It was good of him to find out, but she hated the result. She was so certain that she could find something relevant, that she could convince the government to negotiate for Dwight’s release. It was what she had always been good at, after all. Perhaps if she had gone in person… but now it was too late. The journey would be too much at this point in her pregnancy. And so she was left without recourse.

She had wanted to desperately to do something effective, to do something that would benefit his release, to be useful in a world where she felt less and less relevant.

The room seemed to grow colder.

Caroline swallowed thickly and cursed the tears that welled up in her eyes.

* * *

The worst part about her pregnancy, Caroline decided, was not the nausea or the kicking or even the fact that she was now the size of a whale, although none of those were particularly pleasant. No, the worst part was that she could no longer ride. So when Demelza sent a note asking Caroline to come to Nampara for the day, Caroline had to ask for the carriage and follow the roads rather than jumping on her horse. She missed the freedom of riding; the slow journey of the carriage gave her far too much time to think.

She was fairly certain she knew why Demelza had asked her to come and that request had nothing to do with Dwight, but she could not help but be anxious as she waited to arrive at Nampara. 

The last few months had been agony, with no new developments in terms of Dwight. She still had no way to know if he was alright, if he was still in Quimper, if he was still alive. She would have gone to all sorts of events to consult with anyone who might have information if she was doing the season, but her pregnancy prevented her from any such mission. Even Unwin was less forthcoming with any information he might find after she announced her marriage, although he still occasionally wrote her a letter filled with marginally useful information and an implication that he was available should Dwight never come back. But she had no idea how to interpret such letters. His latest had said that there was a raid freeing prisoners at another prison camp, although in Cherbourg just off the channel. But such a development did give her hope that something similar could happen for Dwight. Perhaps he would be home by Christmas. She would have to ask Ross if it could be possible. 

Ross was the one who came out to greet her as the carriage arrived, largely confirming her suspicions. “Caroline, so glad you could come,” he said, giving her a hand as she stepped out of the carriage.

“I have little else to do,” Caroline said, but her face turned more serious. “Why have I been summoned? Demelza didn’t seem particularly urgent so I assume it doesn’t…”

“It doesn’t have to do with Dwight, unfortunately,” Ross confirmed. “I don’t have any news for you on that score, much as it pains me. However, I do have some good news.” He began to walk towards the house. “Demelza wanted to introduce you to the newest member of the Poldark family.”

Caroline smiled. She was absolutely right. “I would love to,” she said, as she stepped into the house.

“Meet Miss Clowance Poldark,” Demelza said, as Ross led Caroline to the settee in front of the fire. “Born this morning in a matter of a few hours.”

“My, do they always come so quickly?” Caroline asked, as she sat beside Demelza and took in the little bundle in her friend’s arms.

Ross smirked. “For your sake I would hope so.”

“Care to hold her?” Demelza asked, shifting the baby in her arms.

Caroline took in a quick breath before attempting to calm her nerves. “I’m afraid… I’ve never held a baby before. Never had the chance, really. I was always surrounded by adults and no one… kept their children out.”

“No better time to learn then,” Demelza said, “as you’ll soon have one of your own.” She held out the child to Caroline. “Just make sure to suppose her neck, it’s not strong yet, and you’ll be fine.”

The newborn was lighter than Caroline expected, and did not move or cry out at all when shifted. Caroline held the little girl, her muscles still tense and her movements unsure. “Is this right?”

“Of course,” Ross said, sitting down across from them. “Now, I’m not sure if you know this but Dwight is Jeremy’s godfather. So Demelza and I have discussed today and we’ve decided we could find no one better to be Clowance’s godmother.”

Caroline clutched the baby tighter. “You really want me to?” she whispered.

“Absolutely,” Demelza said. “How’s she sitting?”

“Quite well, I think,” Caroline said, although as the baby lay in her arms, her mind raced. She didn’t even know how to hold a child, how could she possibly be a good mother? Of course she’d have to hire a nanny, as there was no way she could care for the child alone, but even then, she should have some idea of how to take care of a child, or at least interact with it. “Demelza, I have no idea how to be a mother. None at all.”

Demelza placed a hand on Caroline’s arm. “You’re not alone.”

“Thank you for that. For everything,” Caroline whispered. “I do wish Dwight were here. He is so good with children, he would know exactly what to do.”

“He will be here soon enough,” Ross said, although he did not sound entirely convinced.

“When is the child due to come?” Demelza asked, attempting to change the subject.

Caroline pressed her lips together. “Two months, perhaps a little longer. Not soon enough and yet far too soon.”

* * *

Besides Demelza, Caroline had hardly ever been around a pregnant woman, much less a woman in labor. So when her time came, she had absolutely no idea what to expect aside from what Demelza and Dr. Choake had appraised her of. As the weeks passed, she slowly lost hope of Dwight being there for her child’s birth; not that she had much in the first place. But it had already been nine horrific months without him—a concept that terrified her when she truly thought about it. He had been in hell for nine months. And truthfully, she still had no idea whether he was alive or not.

She wondered what it might have been like if he could have been there. Would he have wanted to deliver the child himself? Of course he would have; Dwight had confided in her at one point that childbirth was one of his favorite aspects of being a doctor. For once, he said, he was being summoned for a joyous occasion, for someone who was giving life rather than losing it. So naturally he would have wanted to deliver their child, even if it caused him additional stress in the process. But she had to consent to Dr. Choake; Demelza had gone through childbirth without a doctor present, but Caroline certainly could not do the same, especially considering her lack of familiarity with the process.

But the idea of having a doctor other than Dwight repulsed her. She imagined him showing up just as she went into labor; he had no time to explain where he’d been because the baby was coming fast, and once it was all over and the child was in her arms, they could be together and nothing could tear them apart again.

Unfortunately, that was not how her labor occurred.

Demelza had warned her about early contractions, the sort that were simply the body preparing to give birth. So Caroline fought her urge to send for a doctor as soon as she felt the first contraction. But as a few days passed, with Caroline growing increasingly uncomfortable, she asked for Demelza to come and stay at Killewarren.

Demelza was hesitant; she had two children to worry about, and she didn’t want them to disturb Caroline. But Caroline insisted; she could not be alone through this.

It was a mercy that she called for them to come that day, because the next day, the contractions were too severe and too close together to bear. Demelza noticed this, and took Caroline’s hand sensitivity. “I think we ought to send for Dr. Choake.”

“How I wish we could send for Dr. Enys,” Caroline responded, squeezing her eyes shut as she rode out another contraction.

Demelza gave her a sympathetic smile. “As do I. But if he could have been here, you’d never have to send for him. He’d never have left your side.”

Caroline’s labor was long and hard—Demelza had not warned her about this, but then again Demelza had been blessed with short labors in all three of her pregnancies. Caroline, however, was suffering for the better part of the night. Dr. Choake went in and out, and when he was not present, Demelza stayed by her side. Caroline was certain she called out for Dwight far more than was reasonable, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She wanted her husband more than anything in the world.

It was nearly a full day later when Dr. Choake finally advised Caroline to push, but after that, it was very quickly over. Caroline nearly forgot the long hours of labor almost immediately after they were over.

Dr. Choake brought the child over to her, and for a minute, Caroline’s exhausted and addled brain could almost see Dwight in his place, bright blue eyes filling with pride as he presented the baby to her.

“You have a daughter,” Dr. Choake said. He was nice enough about it, but was completely lacking in Dwight’s signature compassion.

Caroline took the little girl into her arms, the few months of holding Clowance having paid off. Emotions welled up in her, but she had no idea how to identify them. Was she sad? Was she delighted? Was she exhausted? Perhaps she felt every emotion known to man.

But she had a daughter. If Dwight was gone, she had something left of him.

The child opened her eyes and stared up at Caroline. She had been crying earlier, of course, but her wails had ceased.

Demelza knocked on the door and entered the room, smiling. “I believe you owe me an introduction.”

Caroline looked down again at the baby. Her eyes were so blue, _Dwight_ blue, a color she had never seen matched aside from the ocean on a bright spring day. “Come meet Miss Lydia Enys,” she whispered.

“My, look at her,” Demelza said.

Her emotions seemed to have gotten the better of her lately, because Caroline felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, completely unusually. “Yes, she’s beautiful,” she said. Before, newborns had seemed to be ugly, wrinkly creatures, but no longer. Now one of those creatures was her daughter.

“We have to find Dwight. We have to free him,” Caroline said, her resolution sudden.

“We do, but you must rest. ’Tis not a worry for today.”

Caroline shook her head. “It is, though. Dwight needs to see his daughter. Dwight needs to know of his daughter. She’s given me strength, she’s made me more determined.”

“Yes. I am not surprised,” Demelza said, placing a hand on Caroline’s shoulder. “I will go find Ross. He must meet the new arrival, and then I suppose he must make plans to free your husband.”

Caroline took another glance at Lydia. Her eyes were closed, and she was sleeping softly. “Yes my darling,” she whispered as Demelza left. “We will find your papa, and I’m certain you’ll love him far more than you love me, because there is no one who could not love Dwight. And he will love you with all of his heart. He just has to meet you first.”

* * *

“Demelza, you must come with me to Lord Falmouth’s ball.” Caroline and Demelza were sat in front of the fire at Killewarren, each holding a daughter in their arms.

Caroline had feared that she could not love a child, that she could not be a good mother to her daughter. But every glance she took at Lydia made her think of Dwight, and as painful as the thought was, she could not regret it. She was glad to never forget him, and at the same time Lydia provided her with a distraction. Perhaps, in a world where her boredom and feelings of uselessness were not quite so pervasive, she might have seen her daughter as an obstacle to her enjoyment of life. Now, Lydia gave her purpose.

She had been quiet towards society; she had not officially announced the birth of her daughter, nor had she attended any event in the three months since Lydia was born, and still several more before.

But Falmouth’s ball was important. She had been shocked to get an invitation; despite her best attempts to avoid scandal and her connection of her own actions to Lord Coniston’s flaws, she still felt as if her reputation had been tarnished. At first, she was not certain she wanted to attend the ball, as she was not comfortable with society as of late, having been away for so long. But the ball coincided with the day of the expected landing of a Royalist fleet in Brittany, which was expected to take back the region and possibly free English prisoners. Ross had planned to bring a crew on and sail with the Royalists and head to Quimper.

Dwight’s freedom was closer; Caroline could feel it. Or at least she hoped so.

If anyone knew about the success of the Royalist landing, it would be someone at Falmouth’s ball. Her mission was not for her own enjoyment. She needed her husband back.

Demelza looked hesitant, and Caroline interpreted it as simply her worry about being at such a ball. “Caroline, I’m not feeling so well. I think I must stay in tonight, and I’d desire your company.”

Caroline looked Demelza over; she did not appear particularly unwell, but Caroline was no doctor. “I would love to keep you company, but I’m afraid I must go to this ball. I have not been to a society event in ages; people will begin to think I’ve disappeared.”

“Very well,” Demelza said. Her mouth pursed in consideration. “I’d hate for you to go it alone: I ought to rest and I may feel better in the afternoon.”

“Of course,” Caroline said. “I’ll go arrange a room for you to rest in.”

Demelza said she felt better that evening, and so Caroline believed her, delighted that she would have company at the ball. She arranged for Demelza to wear one of her older dresses, quickly taken in by a maid, for Demelza had not bought a new dress in several years. “I do not judge your clothing, my dear,” Caroline explained, “but these sorts of things expect that you wear the latest fashion, and I would hate to expose you to unkind gossip. Around me, however, you should wear whatever you wish.”

Caroline felt almost loath to leave Lydia with the nanny, as the little girl had hardly been out of her sight in the last months. But she kissed her daughter goodnight, whispering, “Perhaps tonight I’ll know when your father will come back,” and turned around, to see Demelza standing in the doorway of the nursery, having put her own children to bed in the adjacent room to be cared for by Caroline’s nanny.

“Are you ready?” Demelza asked.

Taking her friends arm, Caroline smiled, trying to show a confidence she did not feel. “Yes.”

* * *

Caroline had forgotten about the misery of insipid conversation; Lucy Andrews reminded her of how awful talking to dull people could be early on in the ball, hardly shutting up for half an hour until she spotted Mr. Carteridge across the room and went to go pursue a dance with him. Demelza had escaped the conversation early on but Caroline was concerned for her as well; she did not have as much experience at these sorts of things and she knew very few people.

As soon as she was free from the conversation, she set out to find Demelza. Discovering the fate of the Royalist fleet was important, but she had all evening, and she would rather have Demelza by her side.

To her surprise, she found Demelza deeply engaged in conversation with Lord Falmouth of all people, and George Warleggan standing nearby, looking very upset and for some reason jealous of Demelza. If George was here, Elizabeth would be here, and Caroline had not seen Elizabeth for any length of time since their tea months ago. Perhaps she ought to seek Elizabeth out as well. But first, a conversation with Lord Falmouth might accomplish exactly what she sought.

“Demelza, I feared I’d lost you!” Caroline said, approaching her friend after giving George Warleggan a cold stare as he began to approach her. He shrunk away but kept his nose in the air. “Lord Falmouth, I’m so grateful you’ve had the chance to meet my dear friend Demelza.”

Lord Falmouth nodded to her. “It’s wonderful to see you, Miss Penvenen.”

“I’m afraid I must correct you, as I’ve taken on the title of Mrs. Enys now,” Caroline said, the smile never dropping from her face. Mrs. Enys. How she loved to stay that, regardless of the difficultly surrounding her.

“Ah, yes,” Lord Falmouth said, looking slightly uncomfortable. “I did hear about that, although briefly. Congratulations on your marriage.”

Caroline turned to Demelza with a grin. “Thank you very much. Now, Lord Falmouth, I expect you’ve been rather involved the proceedings of our current war.”

“Caroline,” Demelza whispered, pulling on her sleeve, “this is hardly talk for a ball.”

Lord Falmouth’s face turned grim. “Yes, unfortunately.”

It was as if someone had sucked all the air out of Caroline’s lungs. “What do you mean, unfortunately?

Demelza’s eyes widened, but Caroline hardly noticed her. Her eyes were trained on Lord Falmouth. “You know, I suppose, that I was a supporter of the Royalist landing in Brittany. Well, I’ve just gotten word that the landing has failed; those who made it on land were taken prisoner or killed, and the rest driven away.”

Caroline felt about ready to collapse, and she grasped Demelza’s arm for comfort. “I’m so very distressed to hear that, Lord Falmouth,” she said, trying to keep her voice under control.

“Most unfortunate, yes,” he said. “In fact, I ought to inform some of my colleagues of the distressing news. I’m most regretful to cast a pall over the ball, but it appears I have no choice.”

Demelza nodded, as Caroline appeared to have nothing else to say. “And I’m afraid Mrs. Enys and I must excuse ourselves, but thank you, Lord Falmouth.”

“Have we lost all? Do we have no chance?” Caroline whispered, as Demelza led her out into the great hall and asked for a servant to bring their coats.

Demelza sighed and puts her arm around Caroline. “Can’t know until Ross gets back.”

“What if he never comes back? What if he got caught up in it too?”

Demelza did not seem appropriately concerned but sighed. “He’ll come back. They both will.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

“Ross’ll come back out of sheer stubbornness, with Dwight in tow, if I know my husband at all,” Demelza said. “Now let’s get you home.”

* * *

Caroline had not shed a single tear in the hours since Falmouth’s ball, although she believed all hope to be lost. She had not slept; in fact, she had done little but stare at the fire with her sweet Lydia in her arms. The little girl had fussed and cried for part of the night, but Caroline had remained stoic. She was numb. Soon enough the tears would come.

Demelza had regrettably insisted on going back to Nampara, although she promised that she would return the next day. However, she had some important things to do at home. Caroline understood, and she could survive being alone. She was never truly alone.

She had known this was coming for so long, and yet had stubbornly refused to accept it. Of course she would never see Dwight again. He had been gone for so long, over a year now, and there was nothing to assure her that he was even alive. It had been months since his name was on the list of prisoners, surely he had been starved to death or killed in cold blood by brutal enemies.It would be a miracle if he survived for so long. And with the latest failed uprising, there was no chance that he could possibly be alive, let alone that he could come back to her.

All she had left was Lydia, who would grow up fatherless, not knowing the wonderful man who helped to bring her into existence. If anything, that was what pained her most. She hated the idea of a child of Dwight’s who did not know him.

Lydia began to cry again, and Caroline pulled her closer to soothe her. As she did, quick footsteps approached. A footman did not even have time to announce the visitor before she burst into the room.

“Caroline!” Demelza shouted, nearly skidding to a halt before her.

She looked up, unsure of how to take in Demelza’s expression. It was nearly pure joy. She grasped her daughter tighter.

“Do you feel strong enough for a small surprise?” Demelza asked, kneeling next to where Caroline was sitting.

“What do you…”

Demelza placed a hand on Caroline’s forearm. “You’d best go to Nampara right away. Your husband is waiting for you.”

Caroline nearly jumped out of her chair, still clutching Lydia close to her chest. “Demelza, do you…”

Standing beside her friend, Demelza nodded. Her eyes filled. “He’s alive. He’s here. I’ll spare the details, because you’d best get there as soon as possible.”

“Of course, I’ll saddle up my horse now,” Caroline said. “Although… Lydia…”

Demelza took the baby into her arms immediately. “You ride over now. He’ll want to see just you first. I’ll follow in the carriage and bring her.”

“Does he… know?” Caroline asked, still unsure of what to say, of how to respond.

“No, I don’t think so. I warned Ross not to tell him, because he needs to hear it from you.”

Caroline began to run out of the room, but stopped short and turned back to Demelza. “Is this real? After all this time, is this really possible?”

“It’s real. But you’d best go find out for yourself.”

* * *

Caroline had only ridden once since Lydia’s birth, and even then, it had been a calm, even ride around Killewarren’s grounds, just to get back into the saddle. But despite recent inexperience, she squeezed her legs around her horse and bid it go as fast as possible toward Nampara. She could not give herself time to wonder and think; she simply had to see Dwight.

How was this possible? Their plans to break Dwight out had gone awry with the failure of the Royalist landing, and surely it was nearly impossible to get into the prison anyway without risking life and limb. But she remembered what Demelza had said about Ross and his stubbornness; that alone could explain their success. Ross would not take no for an answer, especially not after traveling all that way.

In any case, it didn’t particularly matter to Caroline how he was freed, as long as he was free and safe.

The ride to Nampara, despite her quick pace, felt interminable. But soon enough she came over a rise and saw the house laid in front of her. _My husband is there._ She barely allowed herself to stop before sliding down the side of the horse and rushing into the house. What use was knocking when she had not seen her husband in a year, when she had been long convinced that he was dead.

Ross was not downstairs when she entered, so she immediately went to Prudie who was standing in the kitchen. “Where is he?” she asked, breathless and vehement.

“My, he be just upstairs,” Prudie said, raising an eyebrow. “He ain’t going anywhere, I promise.”

That worried Caroline a little bit, but she did not stop to answer questions when she knew that they could be answered simply by seeing him. She took the stairs two at a time and rushed towards the open door, only pausing when she crossed the threshold and saw him there.

She stopped short of herself on the opposite side of the bed, taking him in. A bushy, overgrown beard covered the most handsome face she had ever known, and what were clearly Ross’s clothes hung on a thin, malnourished frame. He was scratched and bruised all over and scarred all over, and he seemed to be barely able to hold his head up. His fingers were marked with signs of scurvy, and his normally brilliant eyes were dark and downcast. But he was there. And he was alive.

So many emotions overwhelmed her that she could not express them. But she could tease him, for that is what they always had done. “Dr. Enys,” she said, moving closer to him, “do I detect scorbutus?” 

He raised his head to her with obvious weakness, finally meeting her eyes. “I’m afraid so,” he replied. There was little hint of a smile or joy in his face. 

But she could make him smile again. She had to. Caroline nearly threw herself down on the bed next to him with a large grin, saying, “Well then, I propose fresh air, oranges, and kisses without end.” She pressed her lips to his for the first time in so long. For the first time since… he had been forced to leave her on the night their child was conceived. Pure relief infused her as his hand came to her cheek; his rough, callused, scarred hand, but his hand nonetheless.

She kicked her shoes off and came closer to him, putting her head on his shoulder. “I have so much to tell you I can’t even say where to start,” she said, although she knew there was one thing far more important than the rest. “But for more of it, I will let you learn in time, just as I will learn of you in time, if you’ll share with me.”

“Caroline, I…” he began, his face falling. “I’m not sure I can…”

She shushed him and nodded. “I know it will be difficult, for you to come back. I’m not concerned about that at the moment because frankly, I’m more than relieved to have you here and alive. Anything else is secondary.” Dwight’s eyes began to fill, and Caroline took his hand.“Speak, or don’t. Let yourself be overwhelmed. I know I am, but I just end up talking in that instance. Like you say, I talk too much. I’m afraid I may have overwhelm you even more, however,” she said, as she heard a knock at the door, “for you have another visitor.”

Dwight shook his head. “I don’t want to see anybody else, not like this…”

“No, no, this is someone you must meet,” Caroline said, blinking back tears of her own. Her emotions during pregnancy apparently had not quite faded away. “Come in,” she said, and Demelza entered, with Lydia in her arms. Silently, Lydia was transferred to Caroline, and Demelza slipped out again.

“Dwight, this is Miss Lydia Enys,” Caroline said softly. The baby was asleep, wrapped tightly and looking as peaceful as could be. Her cheeks were rosy and her features are delicate and Caroline, now seeing the two of them together, decided her daughter had Dwight’s features entirely.

He raised his eyes to her, and then went to staring at the little girl. “Caroline, I don’t understand…” he said, although his tears were now noticeable, and Caroline knew that he understood perfectly.

“Lydia, my darling, meet your father,” Caroline whispered, moving to give the baby to Dwight, who took her so naturally into his own arms, seemingly imbued with newfound strength.

“She’s ours,” he said. His tone had a question behind it, but he clearly knew the answer.

“She’s ours,” Caroline confirmed, putting an arm behind his back and drawing her family closer. “She’s three months of age, and… oh, my darling, don’t cry,” she said.

It was unclear if she was talking to Lydia, who had just woken as she was shifted, or Dwight, who now had tears streaming down his face but was unable to wipe them away to hide them. Or perhaps it was both.

“You’re not…displeased,” Caroline asked, as Dwight didn’t respond but continued to weep quietly, his daughter’s face now buried next to his cheek.

He shook his head. “Displeased, how could I ever…” he started, and trailed off. “I’ve come back to a whole new world. You don’t know, you can’t possibly know what that hell was like, and you would never want to. But now… I’m here, and with you, and… with Lydia, and it all seems like a dream and I don’t know how to respond.”

Caroline didn’t know how to respond, either, for it all felt like a dream to her as well. But she pulled her husband closer and peered at her daughter. “Look at her eyes,” she said. “They’re the most beautiful blue. The kind of blue I’ve only seen in your eyes.”

Dwight shifted Lydia again and smiled as she gazed up at him. “You know all babies have blue eyes.”

“Perhaps. But not all babies have Enys blue eyes, and our daughter certainly does.”

Dwight’s lips worked to form, “our daughter”, but no sound came out. “I…she’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, and I can’t… I’ve seen so much death and now this beautiful new life…”

“You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed. In fact, you probably should. My only stipulation is that you love our daughter, which I have no doubt you will,” Caroline said, gazing down again at Lydia.

Dwight’s eyes welled up again. “I love her already. More than life itself.”

“I kept… I kept imagining her growing up without a father. Except I never could. You were always there, because I could never imagine her without you. I’m not cut out to be a mother, really, but you…”

“No, you are cut out to be another. You’re the bravest woman I know, Caroline, and you went through all of this alone and came out stronger,” Dwight said.

“And you, you went to hell and came back alive,” Caroline replied. “No doubt our daughter will possess enormous strength of character.”

He shook his head and almost laughed as he looked down yet again, although there were still tears. “I still can’t believe I’m here. And Caroline, I’m not… I’m not the same man who left these shores, and you’ll have to give me time to work through some of the things I’m… I’m sorry, I don’t know how to speak coherently about any of this.”

“It’s perfectly alright,” Caroline said, rubbing his back.

“Please, just know, even when you see me struggle, that I have never been happier than to be with my two favorite women in the world.”

Caroline wiped away the stray tear that had been threatening to fall throughout their whole conversation, and turned to him, placing her lips on his, and kissing him with deep passion. Lydia squirmed in between them, reminding her parents of her presence.

As the two broke apart, Lydia began to cry. “Shall I take her from you?” Caroline asked, rubbing his arm. “You must rest, I think. I want you well as soon as possible.”

Dwight shook his head. “No. Let her stay with me a while. And you, too.”

“I’ll stay with you forever,” Caroline murmured, snuggling closer to him, taking in his breaths and the beating of his heart in contrast with the much faster pace of Lydia’s.

Caroline had never thought much of family; for most of her life, her only true family had been Uncle Ray, as her parents had been long gone and had never cared for her much anyway. But now she had a family, a real family, and they were all together and she would never let them go. No, she thought, as she gazed upon her husband and child, she could never bear to let them go.

But Dwight was home and safe, and her daughter was beautiful and healthy. She would never have to let them go.

Caroline had only slept in a man's bed once in her life before this. This was not even their bed. But as they fell asleep, their hands and hearts intertwined and their daughter between them, Caroline could not find a joy to rival this.


End file.
